Page 44 of Deadly Little Sparrow

I toe off my shoes and hang my jacket in the closet, taking care to put everything away nicely, just the way Xav likes it. A weird sense of comfort and nerves creeps under my skin. It’s a feeling that seems to find me every time I come home to Xaviaro’s place. And that’s exactly it, isn’t it? Home and Xaviaro’s place.

We haven’t had any kind of conversation about me being here, it just kind of happened. After the meeting with Enzo two weeks ago, Xaviaro drove me to my apartment so I could grab different clothes and a few other things, and then I just… never went home again. He hasn’t said anything about it and neither have I. We fell into a domestic routine that I haven’t bothered to overanalyze for fear that I might try to convince myself that things are moving too fast or that there’s something wrong with how happy he makes me. Like maybe I don’t deserve to fall in love when Benny will never have the chance.

I swallow around the lump in my throat, startling when the door opens behind me without warning. I spin around just as Xaviaro steps through the door, nearly colliding with me in his hurry to get inside.

“Whoa, where’s the fire, Killer?” I tease, enraptured by the way his expression melts from stoic to warm in the blink of an eye.

“At a warehouse downtown, with the pedophile owner locked inside,” he answers dryly, and I bark out a laugh.

“Sounds like a productive day.” I step closer and undo the buttons on his jacket, tilting my head up in a silent request for a kiss that he happily delivers, leaning down to brush his mouth against mine like he’s asking for permission. Heat quivers in the pit of my stomach and between my legs. I smile against his lips, grabbing his tie to yank him closer and deepen the kiss.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one waiting by the door like your loyal little puppy?” he asks with a smirk when I break the kiss.

I scoff. “I wasn’t waiting like a puppy. I just got home.”

I swear I see his smile twitch even brighter for a second at the word ‘home.’ He likes having me here. He likes coming home and leaving all his stress at the door, letting me undress him and give him permission to set the weight of his job down until it’s time to put his suit back on again tomorrow. I like it too. But being his stay-at-home Dom isn’t going to cut it forever. Eventually I’ll need a job and a life here in Wildcliff, and both of those things come with a whole heap of complications I didn’t think about when I shed my old identity.

“Go anywhere exciting?” His tone is casual as he bends over to untie his shoes, slipping them off one at a time and lining them up right next to mine.

“Like you don’t already know,” I challenge, quirking an eyebrow at him as I pull the tracker out of my back pocket and hold it up between two fingers.

“Dammit,” he mutters, catching it with ease when I flick it towards him.

“No need for a LoJack. I promised I would behave, and I have been.” I head down the hallway to the bedroom with Xaviaro right on my heels.

“You’ve been over on the hundred blocks every day this week,” he points out in an even tone, not accusing, simply stating a fact.

“Watching,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve kept my distance and I promise you they couldn’t pick me out of a lineup if you flat-out told them they were being followed.”

He grunts. Such a simple sound loaded with the fighting words he’s smart enough not to say out loud.

“I already know,” I assure him. I know that as much as Enzo seemed to like me, the death threat wasn’t just bluster. And I know there’s more at stake now than my own soul-blackening need for revenge. I don’t like any of it, but I know it and I’m following the rules.

I slide Xaviaro’s jacket off his shoulders and carry it over to his closet to hang it up. I can feel his eyes on me, warming my skin and penetrating me all the way down to my bones. There’s a reason I didn’t think about the logistics of after when I walked away from my old life. Deep down, I didn’t expect to survive that long. Or maybe I simply didn’t care whether I did or not. And then this brutal, terrifying, absolutely perfect man kneeled at my feet and everything changed.

Well… almost everything changed. Benny is still gone and the men responsible still need to pay. If I have to choose between doing what I came here to do and the hazy future I’ve already started building with Xaviaro inside my heart, I’m not sure which I would pick. I turn that over and over in my head as I return to standing in front of him and work on unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing the more complicated knots of the harness I tied around his chest before he left for work this morning.

The teal shade of the newest ropes stands out against the darker tone of his skin. I run my tongue over his nipple, feeling it harden under my touch, a shiver and a groan escaping him. If I die, who will give my murder marshmallow the escape he desperately needs? I do the same thing to his other nipple, grazing it with my teeth after it’s damp from my tongue. He cants his hips, pressing the swell of his growing erection against me and carding his fingers through my hair.

“I was thinking…” I’m sure he’s not fooled by my offhand tone, like whatever I’m about to say just popped into my head today rather than haunting my thoughts for the past week and a half. “I get the whole thing about the Irish possibly protecting the Reapers and the Mafia war situation, but what if Big Bass and Shit Stain just happened to, I don’t know, have an accident.”

Xaviaro frowns. “An accident?”

“Yeah. They’re bikers on meth. When you think about it, it’s more suspicious that they’ve managed to live this long without crashing their motorcycles or overdosing. Nothing that could be traced back to the Morettis, obviously.” I shrug, and he lets out a throaty laugh.

“As much as we rag on them, the Fitzpatricks aren’t a bunch of morons. And if Enzo is right, they’re just itching for a reason to go to war.”

I discard his shirt and undo his belt, stripping him down to nothing but his silky boxer briefs and the harness. I slip my hand around the knot in the center of his sternum, using the index finger on my other hand to draw slow circles around his belly button.

“One little meth lab explosion,” I barter. “I defy the Fitzpatricks to prove that’s anything but natural selection.”

“You don’t want them to go out in a meth lab explosion,” he says knowingly, cupping my face in both hands and holding my gaze. “You’ve come this far. You want to look them in the eyes and make sure they know which sin they’re paying for.”

Fuck. He’s right.

“I can’t let them get away with it. If it means crossing Enzo…” I trail off and shake my head, still not entirely sure which way the decision will go if it comes down to it.

His expression hardens. “Benny is going to get his justice, and I promise you’ll be the one to watch the light flicker out of their eyes. Just be patient a little longer.”

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